


Shape You Like an Ocean

by Nuanta



Series: Tragedy and Time [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Relationship Negotiation, Safeword Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:27:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29589990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nuanta/pseuds/Nuanta
Summary: The war is over, and Dimitri and Dedue have eloped to Duscur while Dimitri recovers from his trauma. Dedue always seems to know exactly how to get Dimitri out of his head, how to give him what he needs...but Dedue has his own weaknesses too.Sequel toCome Alive, Come Undone. Can be read as a standalone.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro
Series: Tragedy and Time [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2173845
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33
Collections: Dimidue Big Bang 2021





	Shape You Like an Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> ONE YEAR AND TEN DAYS LATER, I AM FINALLY POSTING THE SEQUEL!!!
> 
> I was so thrilled to get the opportunity to finally return to these boys with the Dimidue Bang event. Originally my idea for the sequel was only meant to be 6-8k, but, well, this happened, and I think it's for the best. I also got to work with the amazingly talented [@mafreiidyne](https://twitter.com/mafreiidyne), who made some absolutely gorgeous art to go with the fic, that you will see further in as you read. I can't thank everyone involved with this event enough; I'm just so happy to have been a part of it.
> 
> Infinite gratitude to [@unrivalling](https://twitter.com/unrivalling) for being such a wonderful beta, and for sharing in the love of these two with me.
> 
> CW for a panic attack within a BDSM scene, but it gets resolved safely.

The summer days began to shorten as autumn drew near; once they entered Horsebow Moon, the telltale winds from the north would pick up and sweep a chill across the land, signaling the commencement of the fall harvest. Currently, the heat clung to its final days, the promise of departure stark each evening the sun set just a little earlier than before.

It had been a long time since Dimitri lamented the passing of seasons. But now, as he plucked blueberries the size of tiny pearls from their stems, gazing out into the vast expanse of fields of blue and green, he wished for more time.

He’d heard the murmured concerns from the people of Duscur, how the blueberries used to be ripe for picking at the end of Blue Sea Moon, or at latest the start of Verdant Rain Moon. Climate changes and poor crop conditions over the past ten or so years now had proved detrimental to many types of harvest, though it was the blueberries that had been the most affected. Now, they would maybe be graced with two weeks’ fair weather before the onset of the autumn chill destroyed what remained.

Two weeks at most for these precious indulgences. Dimitri could not taste their sweetness the way Dedue could, but he enjoyed the refreshing burst of juice as they popped like little bubbles in his mouth. It was a new, almost silly experience that he got to share with the children who swarmed him at the end of the rows, eager to feast on the buckets he’d carried back. Until they were gently chastised that patience was a virtue, and they must wait to share with the others.

It was also his very first time picking blueberries. Sometimes he chuckled a little to himself when he remembered this fact. Fhirdiad had imported their berries from Duscur when he was young, and after the Tragedy he’d seen less of those, and more of the misshapen ones from the Empire instead. (Those came in all sizes, rather than the consistent Duscur variants, and only the large ones were sweet—at least, so he’d been told when Sylvain had made the mistake of shoveling a handful of small ones into his mouth and promptly making the most perturbed and offended face.)

Sometimes living here made him feel like he was a child all over again, discovering new pleasures almost daily. Sometimes it felt like making up for lost time.

He’d already lost so much time. Ten years of nightmarish torment that still hadn’t fully abated. More recently, five years—four? It was hard to keep track—of a particularly debilitating kind of anguish, made worse than the previous years because he’d been devastatingly alone in the wilderness, unable to find peace. And then, after the war…

Dimitri barely recalled those first few months. First, there had been the matter of clearing the stragglers once Enbarr had been seized. Then there were several months of peace talks, if he remembered correctly, though even with his life on the line he would not have been able to repeat what had been decided. Next, a particularly harsh winter, made worse by the flu that swept mercilessly through the snowy Faerghus lands in particular. Dedue said that Dimitri had been afflicted, and spent a month hallucinating in bed, and another month in recovery. He couldn’t remember the fever, though he did retain that familiar sense of having been sick.

By winter’s end, as lucidity returned, it had become clear that he could not stay in Fhirdiad. Endless nights of crying in Dedue’s arms, of doubt, of fear, of pain—he knew he could not lead as he was. Perhaps Faerghus had wanted a king, but Dimitri knew that was not him. At least, it was not him yet.

They discussed things with their closest allies, and Dimitri and Dedue absconded to Duscur.

Six months later, here he was.

A rustling crash yanked his attention back to reality, where his Blaiddyd crest had accidentally flared and uprooted a bush. Dimitri hastily attempted to gather the branches and stems strewn across his feet as he set the bush to rights. Surely the blueberries would still be edible after a good rinse.

“Dimitri? Was that you?”

Dimitri blinked, searching for the source of Dedue’s voice. He reached into the bushes, pulled some aside, and sure enough he found Dedue peering at him, nothing but gentle concern across his features.

“Ah, just a little accident, is all,” Dimitri said. “I’m taking care of it.”

“Good to know.” The corners of Dedue’s eyes crinkled like they usually did when he smiled. “When you finish with this row, Gavi has requested our assistance for some heavy lifting, if you are feeling up for it today.”

Given what had just transpired, Dimitri couldn’t help but laugh. “I daresay the exercise would be good for me,” he agreed.

Dedue’s smile widened, and Dimitri longed to melt into it, into his warm embrace, always so vast and good.

“Thank you,” Dedue said. “I’ll let him know we’ll be there soon.”

He left, and Dimitri let the bushes bounce back into place.

Six lost months following the end of the war, and now six more here in Duscur. They were only a couple weeks away from the anniversary of their final battle in Enbarr. It gnawed at something hollow in his chest if he spent too long thinking about it. Better to focus on the positives.

Such as the simple act of living here. It had been Dedue’s suggestion, originally. Dedue, who Dimitri had presumed dead on his behalf for four long years, alive and well thanks to his brethren who had come to his rescue. His people, who welcomed him and Dimitri into their home with open arms.

Dimitri hadn’t been able to adequately express his gratitude back when they’d first arrived. His body had been healthy, so all the doctors back in Fhirdiad had told him, but he’d felt so achingly ill. Dedue had enlisted the help of the village healer, Mara, to examine him, and she had kindly informed him that it was a sickness of the mind, but one that could be remedied with the right environment.

They’d started out slow: a mandated walk through the fields every afternoon, with exceptions for the days when Dimitri could not bring himself to get out of bed. Gradually, more community involvement was inserted into his schedule. It started off simple, with little to no added human interaction, a way to ease him back into society. There was never any pressure on him to perform. Everything he did was met with appreciation and thanks. He was not judged on his mistakes, only encouraged to do better next time.

It felt like something out of a dream. It felt too good to be true.

Dedue was of Duscur. Dimitri was of Faerghus. Worse, he was supposed to be king. He was supposed to be working tirelessly to restore their autonomy, and instead he had shirked his duty. Yet somehow, they’d accepted him as one of their own all the same. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve that.

That was something he was working on, though sometimes it was easier to just focus on doing what he could. In this case, filling his buckets to the brim with blueberries.

When he’d finally cleared the row and traipsed back to the barn, Dedue was sitting at a table engaging in light conversation with Natalie, the woman who tended to the blueberry fields. Slung across her chest, with makeshift cloths and blankets all woven and tied neatly into place, was her two-month-old son, fast asleep cuddled up with his mother as she swayed on her feet.

They spoke in their native tongue, and Dimitri recognized words and phrases in fragments. Proximity allowed him to absorb their meaning, and Mara had strongly implied that learning a new language would do him good. Dimitri wanted to, in any case. He wanted to experience Dedue’s homeland to the fullest, one day. If he could get to a place where he could. He didn’t feel nearly ready enough to maintain a full conversation yet, though Dedue promised it would come with time, and that he was likely farther along than he’d thought.

Natalie beamed at Dimitri as he entered and deposited the buckets on the nearby table. “Oh, Dimitri,” she exclaimed, switching over to Fódlander, “you’ve brought so much!”

He shifted his gaze, suddenly sheepish. “I, uh, some of them fell and will need to be washed before they can be eaten.”

Unexpectedly, her grin did not waver. “That’s fine. I was going to wash them all myself before packing them up anyways. Thank you so much for your help.”

“Of course,” Dimitri replied automatically. “You have your little one to take care of. This is the least I could do to help. Should I come back tomorrow?”

“It’s not necessary, but it would be really great of you if you did,” Natalie said, shifting to rock her baby side to side.

“Then it would be my pleasure.” The lovely thing about the instinctual response was how sincere he felt about it. He actively wanted to do his part to help, and to know he could…well, simply put, it made him feel good.

Dedue smiled and pushed himself upright. “Well, we won’t bother you any longer,” he said. He glanced over at Dimitri and extended his hand. “Shall we?”

“Oh,” Dimitri said, staring at Dedue’s calloused palm. “Yes.”

He slotted his fingers between Dedue’s, and they left the barn together.

This was very new to him still, but Dedue’s air of supreme serenity abated some of the residual anxieties Dimitri harbored towards such outward displays of affection. It wasn’t that he was opposed to holding Dedue’s hand—quite the opposite, he yearned to do so at all hours—but it was something they hadn’t been privileged to do, not since they were children, before Dedue closed himself off in the name of respecting Faerghan culture.

Here, they were free from resenting judgment. Sometimes it seemed like people didn’t even notice, except that couldn’t be true, because it was everywhere. Dimitri found people linked arm in arm practically everywhere he went. He’d questioned Dedue about it at one point, and Dedue had explained that it was something that simply existed, representing all forms of companionship, be they romantic connections or something else entirely.

Everyone was free to love who and how they wanted. For that to be so openly accepted, without ever drawing uncomfortable attention…it eased something in Dimitri’s chest, and allowed for something in his stomach to flutter with happiness rather than nausea.

They strolled hand in hand down the streets, Dedue guiding them towards the edge of the village. Dimitri knew his way on his own at this point, but sometimes it was nice to just let his brain drift and take in the sights and smells as Dedue steered them where they needed to be. They passed the bakery, the scents of yeast and freshly baked dough permeating through the air; they passed a gaggle of children kicking a ball around, and one such strike nearly took Dimitri’s head off along its route; they passed the florist arranging a gorgeous bouquet of all the colors of the rainbow, fragrant and sweet.

Most greeted Dimitri and Dedue with a cheery wave as they went, and some even called out hello. Dedue offered smiles and polite nods in return, and Dimitri mimicked him, even uttering a simple greeting in their language—this much, he was comfortable with. And seeing the wide grins break out when he did was certainly encouraging, to put it lightly.

Dimitri found it interesting, how stoic Dedue was compared to the majority of his people. Originally, he’d thought all from Duscur were deathly serious folk, but he’d grown to realize that he’d only ever known soldiers in action. One did not smile and wave across a battlefield no matter which side one is on. They really were all alike in that.

And as for Dedue, well, when Dimitri had met him, they had been the only survivors of the Tragedy. Of course it would have affected Dedue, especially when his life became embroiled with Dimitri’s, surrounded by only Faerghan culture.

It saddened Dimitri, to think of Dedue having missed out on so much once his childhood was stolen from him. But the more time they spent here, the more Dedue smiled, and the more the exuberance of his people rubbed off on him. It was a very good look for him.

That was why, even if the majority of the village spoke Fódlander for Dimitri’s sake, Dimitri was compelled to return the favor for Dedue’s.

They arrived by the village outskirts to where Gavi waited for them, leaning against a large and notably empty wooden cart. He’d injured his shoulder the other day, and while Mara had assured him recovery would be swift, he was forced to wear his arm in a sling for the next week or so.

“Ah, Dimitri, Dedue, thanks for coming,” Gavi said. “I needed some help loading the cart so I can make a delivery across the bridge.” He gestured with his good arm to the stacks of lumber all lined up by the fence.

That reminder of the fall harvest nearly upon them further served to notify of winter’s approach. One of the keys to ensuring a more comfortable winter meant ensuring all the villages in the area had advance stockpiles of firewood. Dimitri hadn’t experienced winter in Duscur yet, but Dedue informed him that it was much of the same as in Faerghus, given their similar climates.

Dimitri wanted to feel it for himself anyway. That knowledge could help him improve the lives of so many when he took back the crown. But that future felt like a lifetime away, and he did not even know if he truly wanted that, or if he’d rather stay here in Duscur with Dedue to live out the rest of his days.

“We’ll get that ready for you right away,” Dedue said, and Gavi smiled gratefully.

“I’ll owe you one once my shoulder’s healed,” he said.

“Nonsense,” said Dimitri. “You helped us build our house. I should think we will be owing you for quite some time.”

Gavi threw back his head and laughed. “That’s not how that works, but the sentiment is appreciated. In any case, I won’t distract you further. I’m going to pick up some food for the road while you’re packing up.”

“Do you need one of us to help you with that?” Dedue asked.

“Nah, I can easily do this one-armed.”

“Be well,” Dedue said, and Gavi waved and walked off.

Dimitri eyed the mounds of wood, all nicely chopped and ready to be delivered and stored, and mentally calculated how to set them up in the wagon. The volume would most certainly surpass the edges, but they would be able to secure it all in place with ropes.

It was good work, this manual labor. It felt nice to carry heavy stacks all at once, more than Dedue could manage even though his frame was larger than Dimitri’s. Dedue was incredibly strong, of that there was no doubt, but the Blaiddyd crest would always grant Dimitri the advantage. He didn’t mean to show off or anything like that, but he enjoyed the feeling of pushing to his limits, of finding productive ways to do so.

Besides, physical activity was important. Dimitri no longer sparred every day, no longer fought to kill in a five-year war. He had no desire to resume that life. But he was trying to keep healthy, and that meant covering all his bases, whether they were physical, mental, or emotional. Residing in a community where there was constant physical work to be done was invaluable to that aspect of his recovery.

Of course, there were…other physical activities Dimitri practiced, away from the public eye. He glanced over at Dedue, who was deep in focus as he lugged more wood to the cart. Dedue’s displays of strength were captivating, regardless of whether or not they were directly for Dimitri’s pleasure.

Dedue caught him staring before Dimitri could register he was doing so. “Something on your mind, Dimitri?”

Dimitri’s cheeks heated up. “No. Uh, I mean. You look good like this.” Oh, Goddess, he sounded like an utter buffoon. Sometimes he wondered how Dedue entertained his tomfoolery with such patience.

A pause, and then Dedue broke into a gorgeous, knowing smile that sent Dimitri’s heart aflutter. “Is that so?” he asked, pitching his voice just a notch lower.

Dimitri’s eyes caught on a bead of sweat trailing down the corded muscle of Dedue’s neck. He swallowed.

Dedue tossed the logs into the cart, then turned back to Dimitri with a far gentler smile. He stepped into Dimitri’s space, so present and warm, and touched his lips to Dimitri’s forehead.

Such a basic show of affection, barely anything at all, and yet it sent warmth blooming through his entire body. When Dedue leaned back, Dimitri tilted his head up. Dedue huffed a laugh, not at all unkind, and returned for a proper kiss.

Dedue’s lips were soft and plush. Dimitri sighed into the kiss when Dedue cupped his cheek with a warm, gentle hand.

They drifted apart, both smiling dumbly at each other. Even though these moments outside of their home were fleeting, they were Dimitri’s most cherished. Kissing Dedue was a well of luxury that Dimitri longed to drink from for all eternity. For a while, he’d worried he’d never get the chance. Now that he knew he could, that it was legitimately always a welcome occurrence…

He couldn’t thank the Goddess enough for blessing him so. He would thank her and all the Duscur gods for each show of adoration Dedue bestowed upon him.

They were still gazing at each other when Dedue coughed lightly. “We can dine at the house tonight,” he offered.

That was code for spending the night in. Most suppers these days were spent in the company of several other families, always a grand, friendly affair. Dimitri and Dedue rarely hosted, as their home was too small and they did not want anyone to feel left out, but Dedue always found a way into the kitchen of every home they entered. Judging by the way so many faces lit up when biting into his dishes, Dimitri figured his assistance was more than welcome every time, and that filled him with a rush of pride.

Sometimes, they would be too tired to engage in so much social activity. These events often came with a tendency for multiple conversations to be carried in the room at the same time, and Dimitri struggled to keep up with internal translations, especially when they spoke so fast. There were times when the mere prospect of it could be too distressing to fathom, and his mind would stall right there. That was why, more often than not, Dimitri was the one to utilize their code, but Dedue occasionally lacked the energy for it as well.

That wasn’t the only reason for that phrase, however, and Dimitri knew exactly what Dedue meant this time. Because supping together, in private, led to…other events in private as well.

“Yes,” Dimitri exhaled in a rush. “Yes, let’s.”

Dedue broke into a smile, and Dimitri felt certain with every fiber of his being that there existed nothing so beautiful as this sight before him.

With that settled between them, they went back to work, and Dimitri let his mind drift in the repetitive motions, in the safety of quiet harmony as he worked in tandem with his love.

When they were close to finishing up, Gavi returned with a sack slung over his good shoulder. He protruded a long roll of twine from his pouch and handed it over to Dedue, who began to secure the cart while Dimitri loaded the last stacks of wood. They had an easy way of fitting seamlessly into each other’s space, into knowing exactly what way to help next without impeding the other’s progress. Quite the efficient team, others had noticed, and Dimitri had blushed every time.

When they’d finished, Gavi thanked them sincerely once more and moved on to harness his horses for the ride. He insisted he didn’t need any further assistance, and the sun was beginning to emit an orange glow over the fields, so Dimitri and Dedue retired together to their home.

It was a modest little construction, put together by Dedue and pretty much every able-bodied worker in the community shortly after their arrival in Duscur. Initially, Mara had graciously opened her home to them, and they slept in the spare room that had once housed her own daughter before she’d married. They had not wanted to overstay their welcome, so Dedue had started on the project almost immediately. Dimitri had not been available, mentally, to help, other than to take walks over to the site and nod his approval—meager attempts at motivation to be sure, but Dedue seemed to appreciate them nonetheless.

Ultimately their goal was a cozy place for just the two of them to dwell. There was a kitchen, a bathroom, a sitting room, and a bedroom. Dedue had built a basement cellar as well, though that was not a habitable space. Altogether, it was still smaller than Dimitri’s personal chambers in Fhirdiad—and yet, it felt so much bigger. His old rooms were vast, but sparse; their home here was filled to the brim with tools and appliances and even little portraits on the walls that Dedue had purchased from aspiring artists. This space felt so much more lived in, so much more cared for. And even when Dedue was not around, Dimitri never felt alone in here. He just felt loved.

They’d left the windows open while they were out, and the sun cast a golden glow into the home, bathing everything in soft warmth and light. Dedue’s plants on the windowsill reached out with their strong green leaves and tendrils as if to greet them.

Unbidden, Dimitri went over to them and trailed a finger across the fuzzy edge of a leaf. “Hello,” he cooed. “I see you’ve been enjoying the sun.”

Dedue had said, once, that plants could understand them—if not by their language than by their emotions. A healthy, positive environment allowed for them to thrive past the standard care necessary for their growth. And some days Dimitri didn’t have much to do, and talking to plants was better than talking to ghosts.

“How does a stir fry sound for dinner tonight?” Dedue asked. “I have some vegetables that we should put to use before they go bad.”

He was smiling, watching Dimitri with the plants, no hint of judgment whatsoever. Dimitri could never find the words to express how that made him feel.

“That sounds wonderful,” Dimitri answered. “How can I help?”

Dedue pursed his lips for a moment, considering. “If you don’t mind cutting the vegetables, that would be a great help.”

He always selected tasks that were relatively simple for Dimitri. Generally speaking, anything involving contact with the stove was avoided, because Dimitri was prone to distraction and often burnt whatever was cooking. The last time that happened had been fraught; Dimitri had cried for no reason upon his failure, sobbing over the desire to do better warring with his complete and utter inability to do so. Dedue had held him, kissing and stroking his hair, murmuring assurances in his ear along with wise words of progress.

After all, progress was showing itself in other ways. It stood to reason that eventually it would reflect in the kitchen as well.

“Maybe you’re just not ready for this particular challenge yet,” Dedue had said, “and there’s nothing wrong with that. You’ve been doing so good, Dimitri. Don’t forget how far you’ve come.”

And, well—Dimitri could never find it in himself to argue when Dedue insisted he was _good_.

Chopping vegetables was easy, especially when no one cared about the size of the pieces. Dimitri could hack away with abandon at the medley of colorful vegetables on the wooden cutting board, and Dedue would always smile his approval. At the end of the day, as long as they were bite-sized and tasted good, it could be considered a job well done.

The tasting good bit was more Dedue’s area of expertise, but Dimitri appreciated feeling useful in the process.

Dedue hummed a tune some children on the street were singing earlier today while he prepared the rice, and Dimitri let the rhythm dictate the pace of his cuts. Before they’d arrived in Duscur, Dimitri couldn’t ever remember hearing Dedue sing. It was as if being here—being in Dedue’s homeland, his _home_ —was freeing parts of Dedue he’d hidden from the rest of the world. It wasn’t that Dedue had been fake towards Dimitri; far from it, Dedue had always been totally genuine. But now Dimitri could see the other genuine dimensions of who he was.

Dimitri loved them all.

When Dedue finished cooking, he poured the stir fry into two serving bowls, which Dimitri brought over to their little wooden kitchen table. It was a small circular thing, enough to comfortably fit three people, maybe a fourth if they made room. Once the pan was soaking in the sink, Dedue joined Dimitri at the table and they began to eat.

They were past the point of checking in with each other to make sure the food was to their tastes, but Dimitri enjoyed watching Dedue’s face as he ate nonetheless. He liked knowing that Dedue was satisfied.

Dimitri was in charge of washing the dishes after dinner. The only exception was if he had to handle anything fragile, in which case Dedue would take over that task. In this case, there were no such utensils to worry about, so Dimitri washed and Dedue dried.

The sun was setting when they finished, casting a golden-pink hue over the sky, giving the clouds a lavender tint. It looked like something out of a painting, and this was just the view from their window.

“Would you like to sit outside and watch the sunset?” Dedue asked.

Dimitri thought about it, about Dedue’s words earlier by the fields, and shook his head. “Let’s watch it from the couch?” he suggested.

Dedue smiled broadly at him. Their sofa was not quite big enough for them to both lay on together, but they could fit comfortably sitting side by side. Dedue took the side furthest from the window, extending his arm over the back, motioning for where he wanted Dimitri to place himself. Dimitri followed easily, slotting himself into the empty side, sighing contentedly as Dedue’s arm wrapped around his shoulder.

Dimitri snuggled against Dedue’s side, resting his head against the firm muscle of Dedue’s pectoral through his loose-fitting shirt. “You won’t see much this way,” Dedue observed.

Dimitri hummed and closed his eye. “This suits me just fine.”

Dedue’s hand came to rest against the small of Dimitri’s back, and Dimitri felt all the residual tension from the day loosen. “How was your day?” Dedue asked.

“Mm, good. I look forward to picking berries again tomorrow.”

“I’ve missed them. It’s not the same from anywhere else.”

“We’ll take home a big batch from Natalie tomorrow, then.”

“I would like that very much.”

“You looked really good today,” Dimitri blurted, then immediately burrowed his face deeper into Dedue’s shirt.

Dedue’s hand flexed against Dimitri’s spine. Then it exuded just a modicum of pressure, holding him impossibly, protectively close.

“As did you,” Dedue said softly. “As do you.” With his free hand, he tapped the bottom of Dimitri’s chin, just a simple request.

Dimitri acquiesced, unable to deny Dedue when secretly he’d yearned for another kiss ever since the afternoon, and when their lips met this time he moaned with relief.

He moved against Dedue, clambering onto his lap. Dedue shifted, strong arms guiding Dimitri with so much gentle power. Dimitri had watched Dedue cleave soldiers in half with those arms. Feeling them manipulate Dimitri’s pliant body, so careful and tender, sent heat rushing through every part of him, left him feeling like he could fly.

Against his lips, Dedue said, “Shall we move somewhere more comfortable?”

“Yes,” Dimitri breathed immediately, and Dedue smiled against him before hefting them both upright. Dimitri gasped as he was lifted off the ground, wrapped his legs around Dedue’s hips as Dedue scooped him up and carried him to their bedroom.

Their room was plain but cozy, and much like the rest of their home, there were potted plants by the windowsill. The drapes were tied at the sides to let the lingering light from the sunset, now a deep gold, filter through. On either side of the bed was a small wooden table; they had their respective sides for anything they might need, as well as candles.

Dedue deposited Dimitri on the bed and went to light the candles. “Undress for me,” Dedue said, and it was a command, it signaled the commencement of their play, and Dimitri shuddered with relief that they would do this tonight, that Dedue desired to take Dimitri out of his head while he obeyed for a while.

Dimitri wasted no time in taking off his clothes, letting them fall haphazardly to the floor for now. They would pick everything up later.

Dedue finished lighting the candles as Dimitri’s pants hit the floor. “The cuffs, I think,” Dedue mused. “With the padding.”

Dimitri moved purely on instinct, even though Dedue hadn’t even issued an order for him to do so. They kept a chest at the foot of the bed in which all of the implements for their times together were stored. Inside were a variety of ropes and other bindings, oils, and other tools that Dimitri wasn’t quite familiar with yet that Dedue had commissioned during their time here, that they hadn’t yet had the chance to explore together. Just staring at the foreign implements sent a thrill down Dimitri’s spine.

He rummaged around for the padded cuffs and located them fairly easily. Once those were dropped onto the bed next to him and the chest was closed again, Dimitri looked over at Dedue, whose shirt had joined the pile of Dimitri’s clothes and pants were down to his knees, taking his smallclothes with him in one rush.

Dimitri’s mouth watered at the sight of those tone muscles, those grizzled scars, that skin and strength he would be feeling intimately against his own. Dedue gave him a knowing smile.

Dedue joined him on the bed, situating himself right in the middle and sitting in a cross-legged position. “Come here,” he said, warm and inviting, and Dimitri did.

Settling into his lover’s lap once more, Dimitri wrapped his arms around Dedue and pulled himself close until their chests and cocks were flush together. One quick, experimental grind, and Dimitri gasped with it, ever nerve awakening, perfectly alive.

Then Dedue groaned and kissed him with gusto, and Dimitri’s mind spun. They kissed and kissed and kissed, touching everywhere all at once, and the longer it dragged on, the more the world simply faded away, until all that remained were the good feelings within their personal bubble, the beautiful moments they created together.

A new world, a new awareness, just for them.

Dimitri let himself drift, and let himself feel.

He floated into a world of contradictory sensation. The breeze coming in from the window, caressing his cheeks, his toes, was cool; Dedue was warm, from the solid chest against Dimitri’s own to the arms wrapped securely around his waist. Dedue’s nails raked down Dimitri’s back, skittering just the right side of painful; his lips brushed softly against his pulse point.

The slide of his leaking cock against Dedue’s—larger, heavier, meant to take and to fill—tightened the heat coiling low in his belly, a pendulum swing between the sweetest bliss and the desperate ache.

They hadn’t used a blindfold this time, but Dimitri kept his eye closed all the same, all for the heightened rush of sensation. He breathed in deep, grounding. Inhaled the scent of the blooms by the windowsill in equal measure with the salted muskiness of the shared arousal in the room.

“Dimitri.” Dedue’s voice was low and husky, no longer masking the desire they’d both struggled to contain for so long. Dimitri preened under the syllables of his name, arching his back and grinding his hips down. No one else spoke to him like that. They could never.

Dimitri’s movements were met in perfect tandem with the upward roll of Dedue’s hips. He gasped as the electricity shook them both, as Dedue’s calloused fingers released his back to a sudden breeze and flitted over his shoulders, down his arms, until they closed firmly around his wrists. Dimitri flexed around them, but the grip held steady.

Dedue said, “Dimitri,” and he recognized it for the unspoken command it was. He released a shuddering exhale, the vibrations beneath his skin threatening to break loose and rend him apart, and Dedue had not even properly bound him yet, was not even inside—

Malleable enough to Dedue’s wishes nonetheless, he received a hum of approval, and this was where he could taste sweetness on his tongue. His muscles twitched but relented under Dedue’s manipulations, until Dedue had maneuvered both of his arms behind his back.

“I’m going to cuff them now,” Dedue said, not quite a warning. “Is that okay?” 

Dimitri swallowed hard and nodded, not trusting himself to speak. His body thrummed with anticipation as Dedue transferred both wrists to one hand and reached, padding over the bedding, for the padded cuffs with the other. They’d been used to constrict Dimitri’s arms across his chest, or over his head when he’d been pressed flat against the mattress. This angle was foreign, and carried with it the promise of a new experience. How Dedue always managed to find a way to make each of their forays together different was beyond him, but just the prospect of being taken to unknown shores was thrilling in and of itself. 

“You’re so good,” Dedue crooned, a gust of air caressing the shell of Dimitri’s ear and making him shiver as the cushioned pressure locked around his wrists with a deft click. Dimitri frowned at the alien strain in his arms, shifting to get a feel for it. Dedue’s palms traveled placatingly up his arms, over his shoulders, until they gently cradled his jaw. His breath danced across Dimitri’s lips. “Dimitri. You’re so beautiful like this.” 

Dimitri barely registered the words, the touch, his arms leaden behind him. His next inhale was cut off as Dedue crushed their mouths together, and there he whined into the kiss, thighs clenching around Dedue’s. The only part of his body still within his control. He’d give them up to Dedue in a heartbeat if he asked, but he was grateful for them now as his hips bucked and the friction of their cocks rubbing together sent a jolt reverberating down his spine. 

There was an odd lightness in his chest that wasn’t present normally during these trysts. He fought against it, to keep Dedue close, all around him, all-encompassing, even as his arms protested.

The kiss deepened as Dedue’s tongue prodded and licked its way inside, and Dimitri helplessly opened up for him, eager to be used, his head spinning. He tried to reach for Dedue, but his arms were stone behind him.

That was fine. Being unable to respond the way he wished to was revelatory when Dedue was the one pulling the strings.

This method of relinquishing all control was different than the others. Dimitri couldn’t quite put his finger on why; he was too muddled, too caught up in the ferocity of Dedue’s ministrations, in how they left him reeling and aching with arousal.

He struggled once more to no avail, and on his knees in the darkness he knew he was cornered. 

There was no way out of this.

Why did it hurt to breathe?

The memory hit him with more force than any blow he’d ever sustained on the battlefield. Kneeling against the cold stone of the cell floor, the chilled air against his back, arms restrained behind him. Pins and needles shooting through his extremities, robbing him of his dignity, his strength. No escape from this torment save replacing it with another—

“ _Stop!_ ” he gasped, opening his eye wide, wrenching his neck, kicking and stumbling, falling back, rolling, “ _Please, stop—Duscur, Duscur—_ ”

Bright spots danced across his vision, a high-pitched whirring penetrating every crevasse of his brain. He writhed in agony, his crest flaring as he wrenched his arms apart, the shriek of breaking metal jarring him back into awareness.

He panted heavily, unclenched his jaw from the fabric he had somehow captured between his teeth. Soft. Blanket. Stomach against the bed. He turned his head sideways, breathed in a gulp of fresh air before expending it almost instantly. Faced the open window, the curtains drawn, shifting slightly, petals and leaves swaying from their pots. His bedroom. 

In Duscur.

“Breathe, Dimitri.” The voice sounded far away. “Deep breaths.”

Dimitri brought an arm to his face and his eye locked on the dark cuff around his wrist, the jagged chain dangling from it. He’d—he’d broken—

“You need to breathe,” the voice said again, forceful through its familiarity. “Inhale, hold, exhale. Five seconds each. Follow my count. Inhale.”

Dimitri sucked a shuttering breath.

“—two, three, four, five. Hold—” 

His chest hurt to obey. Why did it have to happen like this?

“—five. Exhale, two, three, four, five. Inhale—” 

Slowly, as Dimitri followed the rhythmic instruction, the thrashing creature beneath his ribcage was subdued, the ringing in his ears and pounding in his brain subsided. He pushed himself into an upright position on the bed, and found Dedue standing in the farthest corner of the room, arms held stiffly at his sides, staring at him as he would a frightened lamb. 

It was a look Dimitri never imagined he’d take. Especially not with him, not here. In Duscur. In their home together. 

In their bed.

“Dedue,” Dimitri choked, his throat hoarse and dry. “I’m so sorry.”

Dedue shook his head, his expression pained. “Don’t be. I was out of line. I should be the one apologizing.”

Dimitri closed his eye and dug into it with the heel of his palm. “No, that’s not—come here?” 

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” 

Dimitri lowered his hand and glanced back at Dedue, took stock of the way his fingers trembled along with the rest of him, the pleading countenance to his eyes, uncharacteristically wide. It struck him, in that moment, that Dedue was, down to the bone, terrified of approaching, of doing anything that could possibly hurt him. 

“I promise,” said Dimitri. “I want to feel you next to me.” 

Dedue’s chest heaved, and then he carefully stepped towards the bed, eyes on Dimitri like a hawk. Gingerly, he sat on the edge of the bed, legs dangling over the side, leaving a modest amount of space between them. Dimitri scooted closer until their shoulders were just barely touching. Dedue held himself perfectly still. With a sigh, Dimitri leaned against him. A beat, a slight rustling, and then Dedue’s arm came to drape over him, and pulled him in closer. 

Dimitri closed his eye, and focused once more on feeling the warmth around him. Safe and good.

“Thank you.”

They stayed that way for some time, the only sound between them that of their breathing in tandem, slow and steady and sure.

Dedue broke the silence first. “Dimitri,” he began cautiously.

“I shouldn’t have reacted that way,” Dimitri replied instantly. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Things rarely happen the way they’re supposed to,” Dedue said. “If you can talk about it, I’d like to know what went wrong, so that I can avoid it in the future.” 

Dimitri chuckled; he couldn’t help himself. “We’ve done all of this before,” he said. “I’ve _liked_ everything we’ve done before.” A solitary shiver coursed through him, and Dedue’s arm around him tightened. “But somehow, this time, I thought of the dungeons in Fhirdiad.” 

He listened to the way Dedue breathed in and out through his teeth, sharp and controlled. Resolutely fixed his gaze on Dedue’s muscled thighs, on his softened member. 

“What made you think of that?” asked Dedue.

“I’m not entirely sure.” Dimitri held up his wrists, both still cuffed, but separated. The light pressure surrounding them was grounding, so unlike when they had been trapped behind him. “I think it might have been the position.”

“Your arms?”

“I…I think so.”

“Hmm.” Dedue made a pensive noise. “It wasn’t you on my lap?” 

Dimitri shook his head. “No, I don’t think that was it. I was fine until you bound my arms.”

“Nor keeping your eye closed?” 

“Definitely not that,” Dimitri assured emphatically. 

“You’re still wearing the cuffs,” Dedue observed. He reached out with his free hand to trace where they outlined Dimitri’s forearms. 

Dimitri flushed. “I like them,” he said. “I like the feel of them on me. They—they remind me of you, in a way. I hope that’s not bizarre,” he added hurriedly. 

Lips pressed gently against his brow; there was a smile there. “Not at all,” Dedue said. “Truth be told, it pleases me to hear.” He straightened, and Dimitri missed the warmth already, even with the arm still around his shoulders. “So it wasn’t the cuffs themselves, but them specifically trying your arms behind your back.” 

“Yes,” Dimitri answered. “I don’t want to stop using them.” The longer they spoke, the more reinforced his certainty grew. As his eyes tracked the metal chains dangling off the cuffs, one of the broken links slid off and clattered to the floor. 

A tidal wave of guilt washed over him. “I’m so sorry,” Dimitri blurted. “I broke your—I’ll pay for a new pair, I promise, I’ll—” 

“Hush, love,” Dedue murmured. “These were never sturdy enough to hold if you truly wanted to break free.” 

A sudden chill took hold of Dimitri, resulting in a full-body shudder. Dedue’s fingers dug minutely into his skin. As he settled again, Dimitri became aware that they had both been sitting naked and soft for some time, the points of contact insufficient to fully warm them. 

“I really ruined the mood, didn’t I,” Dimitri said bitterly.

Dedue tutted disapprovingly. “Nothing with you is ever ruined,” he promised. “Though I think we’ve both had enough for today.” 

“I suppose you’re right.” The admission sent a pang through his heart, even as he acknowledged the fact that he would not be able to seek further pleasure tonight. But Dedue remained, and would remain. He could ask for no more than that.

“Dimitri,” Dedue said, and he startled from his reverie. This time, Dimitri looked up, and found Dedue’s gaze searching, considering. “Would you like to kneel?”

Relief crashed over Dimitri then. “Yes,” he breathed.

“Do you want to keep the cuffs on?” Dimitri nodded.

Dedue smiled at him, so kind and loving—and in that moment, nothing could shake Dimitri of the absolute trust he held in his lover, that even despite his shortcomings, Dedue would always find a way to make things good, to take him to that place where suffering was but a distant dream, and he could rest peacefully.

They set a pillow at Dedue’s feet, and each draped a blanket over their shoulders so that they wouldn’t have to dress and undress again when they went to bed. Comfort and cuffs in place, Dimitri knelt before Dedue, listing forward until his forehead rested in the crevice between Dedue’s knees. Dedue hands carded through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. Dimitri sighed contentedly, the tension in his shoulders fading away.

“Very good,” Dedue said quietly. “There you go.”

Even as he drifted away, Dimitri had enough presence of mind to murmur, “I love you.” And in that soothing haze, he heard Dedue answer in kind.

~o~

Dimitri awoke to an empty dip in the bed beside him, though there was no lack of warmth. He was swathed in blankets, clearly rearranged to drape over Dimitri’s body once Dedue had risen. On a morning such as this, the routine reassured him that last night had not completely ruined things.

It would not have completely ruined things, he reminded himself. That was not how relationships worked. Sometimes, when the doubt filtered in, he practiced reciting a mantra to contradict it in his mind. He did not always believe it, but he knew it was not anyone else’s responsibility to convince him of the truth. He had to do so for himself as well.

He sighed and shifted, stretching his legs before curling back in on himself, tugging the blankets close. The pillow next to him smelled of the soap Dedue used, a floral scent. Dimitri couldn’t remember which flower it was this time. It seemed Dedue would introduce a new kind every time their current bar was used up, always eager to try whatever new combinations the florist and her wife concocted, and Dimitri couldn’t come close to matching Dedue’s encyclopedic knowledge of flowers. Dimitri used it too, since it made sense to share, but there was something acutely different and special to smelling it on Dedue or his things, compared to his own.

Mornings like these used to be so hard to come by. The reality of war made everyone always on edge; indulgences had no place there. Further back in time, there was always too much hustle and bustle, tight schedules dictating every moment of his day. Here, he was finally allowed to stay in bed with no shame or guilt.

He basked in the warmth a bit longer, until finally the telltale signs of Dedue cooking breakfast made themselves known: odors of spice and yeast wafting into the room from the kitchen.

Whether that was because Dedue had purchased a loaf from the bakery or elected to make his own this morning, Dimitri couldn’t tell, but it didn’t matter, because every single person in Duscur crafted their food with so much care. Generally, Dedue preferred to support his community, but sometimes he liked to try his own hand at making certain things. He’d found a good balance for himself here, and it always pleased Dimitri to see.

Dimitri stretched both his arms and legs now, as far from each other as they could go, so that his toes extended off the edge and his wrists hit the headboard. Then he discarded the blanket and rolled out of bed to put on pants and a shirt before joining Dedue in the kitchen.

Dedue smiled at him from around the counter, where he was whisking some eggs in a bowl. “Good morning, my love,” he said. “You came at the perfect time. Would you like a scramble or an omelette today?”

Dimitri considered. There were different reasons to like either dish, so ultimately it came down to his mood. “Scramble, I think,” he answered.

Dedue nodded as he poured the egg batter into a pan over the stove-top fire he’d started. “I bought a spiced loaf from Cortney while I was on my morning walk,” he said, gesturing to the loaf next to him, the source of the morning’s smell. “They’re trying a new blend.”

“You’ll have to return to them later and convey our thoughts,” Dimitri said, returning the smile, and he weaved around Dedue to procure plates and utensils to set the table.

It was not long before the eggs were ready and Dedue brought the pan to rest over a cloth in the middle of the table. Dimitri helped himself to a heaping scoop of scramble as Dedue sliced the bread.

As usual, it was delicious. Dimitri used some of the bread to scoop up the eggs, and took his time playing the different textures around in his mouth. Dedue’s eyes crinkled in the corners as he watched him.

“Do you like it?” Dedue asked.

Dimitri chuckled a little once he’d swallowed. “I made it pretty obvious, didn’t I?”

Dedue inclined his head in agreement.

“How about you?” Dimitri returned.

“I’m quite partial to the spice combination Cortney used,” Dedue said. “I’ll send them your regards when I go out.”

“Thank you.”

They ate, then they cleaned, working around each other’s bodies and spaces as easily as a river flowing down a stream. When Dimitri handed over the last dish to dry and put away, he locked eyes with Dedue, then on a random whim he could not explain, tapped a finger to his lips.

Dedue blinked at him, startled, but the meaning could not be mistaken. In one swift motion, he swooped down and planted a kiss where Dimitri had requested, and then he continued to put the rest of their things away.

Tiny bubbles of happiness flitted around in Dimitri’s stomach, even as it twisted with the slightest unease, that Dedue had been surprised. It was true that this was not something Dimitri did, generally, but he hadn’t thought it so strange either. It made him wonder if perhaps Dedue was more affected by the night before than he let on. Then again, this was such a little thing, so maybe it was just Dimitri looking for problems where there were none.

“Do you mind if I bathe without you this morning?” Dedue asked, then. “I would like to do a bit of meditation, and your presence, while wonderful,” he smiled wistfully, “can be distracting.”

“Oh.” Dimitri struggled not to let his apprehension show. “Yes, of course.”

That was definitely unlike him.

It was not completely unheard of, as Dedue did like to spend time alone with his thoughts on occasion, drawing on meditative techniques he learned from people here, or even from Mercedes during the war. Mercedes’ techniques had been helpful to both of them, in different ways. But this specific sequence of events, of little instances of malaise…

It seemed improbable that this was just a mere coincidence.

_He called you “my love,”_ Dimitri reminded himself firmly. Their affections for each other were unblemished, he was fairly certain, but that didn’t mean Dedue was simply _okay_ either. Maybe, like Dimitri often did, Dedue was being hard on himself. And if his conflict was personal and internal, there might not be much Dimitri could do about it.

In any case, now was not a good time to ask. They both had their own plans for the day to get to.

They bathed separately, but left the house together, as they usually did. Before they crossed the lawn to the main street, Dedue carded a gentle hand through Dimitri’s hair, caressing down to his cheek, ending at his chin, tipping it up just enough to steal one last kiss, which Dimitri accepted gratefully.

“If I do not see you today, I should be back before sundown,” Dedue said.

“Have a good day, then,” Dimitri replied.

“And you as well.”

He was fairly certain Dedue was still upset with himself, now. But, as they took off in opposite directions down the street, Dimitri tried to put his mind to his first task: more blueberry picking. The fields did not pick themselves, after all, and Natalie could use all the help she could get. Dimitri was more than happy to oblige.

He greeted her with a warm smile when he arrived at the fields. She had washed out most of the berries he’d delivered to her yesterday and packaged them up, so he retrieved three empty buckets in each hand and headed out to continue where he’d left off.

Others came to help throughout the morning as well, though Dimitri didn’t see much of them. Everyone was always careful to work in a different row, and Natalie had set up signs to mark which rows still needed to be picked. Once Dimitri got into the groove, though, it hardly mattered who else was in the area. He worked diligently, and by lunchtime he had filled all six of his buckets.

When he brought them in to Natalie, her face erupted with amazed delight. “Oh, Dimitri, you shouldn’t have!” she exclaimed, rocking the baby in her arms. “You’ve done so much. Please, I hope you haven’t canceled any other plans today on my behalf.”

“Not at all,” Dimitri assured her. “Though if it’s not too much to ask, I would like to take home a big batch of blueberries for Dedue.”

Natalie beamed at him. “Of course,” she said. She gestured with her free hand to the buckets of freshly picked blueberries. “Any of those are yours. You can bring the bucket back once you’ve eaten them all.”

Dimitri stared at her. “Really and truly? That’s so much, and you’ll be short a bucket.”

She laughed. “I promise you I won’t miss it in the meantime,” she said. “No one else carries six at once like you do.”

Dimitri’s cheeks heated up, though not in an unpleasant way. “Thank you so much,” he said earnestly. “Truly, this will brighten Dedue’s spirits for many days to come.” He inspected the buckets carefully, then chose the heaviest one. “I will bring this with me now while I go home to take lunch.”

“Of course.” Natalie shooed him off. “Go relax this afternoon. You’ve more than earned it.”

“You’re too kind.” Dimitri lifted a hand to wave as he hefted the bucket in the other. “Take care, Natalie.”

“You too!”

Dimitri lugged the bucket back to the house, knowing Dedue probably would not see it until the end of the day. He figured he could place it somewhere conspicuous, where Dedue could notice it the moment he walked through the door—a nice little welcome home surprise after a busy day.

While he was there, he fetched himself some leftovers to eat for lunch, ate alone at the table while contemplating where to go next. Of course, he could go back to Natalie’s and help with the blueberry fields some more, and she would no doubt appreciate it. As far as he’d known, there was no one else currently requesting aid with the sorts of tasks that Dimitri could help with. There were no hunting parties going out today, no construction projects requiring manual labor. Dimitri had long accepted that he was ill-equipped to handle certain delicate tasks, and he did not want his crest to accidentally activate and ruin something for someone, so he graciously refrained from offering that kind of assistance.

It seemed he would go back to blueberry picking, then. Dimitri sighed as he finished eating, though not at the prospect of working in the fields again. It was more than eating here alone, in the home he shared with Dedue, reminded him that Dedue was working through his own struggles right now, and Dimitri was unfit to help. He didn’t think of himself in a self-deprecating way, but it was just that he was inexperienced with helping someone else handle such issues. And Dedue had learned all of the coping mechanisms he’d passed on to Dimitri from Mara—

Dimitri just about gasped out loud. Of course. Mara would be the perfect person to speak to about this.

He hurriedly put his things away and took off at a brisk jog towards Mara’s healing house.

As the village healer, Mara worked in what was essentially a live-in infirmary. She had space to herself, but she also housed any who were ill, who required assistance in childbirth, and an assortment of other situations. Dedue had lived in the healing house for over four years during the war, ever since taking Dimitri’s place on the executioner’s block and barely escaping with his life thanks to his brethren. He’d spent four long years recovering; it was a grueling, arduous task, and getting back into fighting shape had taken countless sessions of physical therapy. Dimitri would always be grateful for Mara’s role in that.

She’d also aided Dedue in other aspects of his recovery, notably the mental side of things. It was her who taught Dedue what he knew about methods of getting out of one’s head for a while: the kneeling, the service, the restraints. Dedue had never been reticent in talking about it; it was all very matter-of-fact, and Dimitri knew that Dedue’s feelings towards Mara were neither romantic nor sexual in nature. Dimitri supposed it wouldn’t have mattered either way, but it eased him to know Dedue did not shy away from honesty.

He hadn’t been dishonest this morning. He’d simply been trying to work things out on his own. But Dimitri wanted to help, if he could. He hoped Mara might know what to do.

Her door was always unlocked, but Dimitri knocked before entering anyways. He cleared his throat before calling out, “Mara?”

“In the back,” he heard from far away, in the language of Duscur. Dimitri knew the general layout of the healing house, knew that Mara had a backroom where she worked on herbal remedies and other concoctions. He made his way to her, stopping at the open doorway.

She looked up from where she was crushing some herbs with a mortar and pestle, the wrinkles around her eyes softening. “Oh, hello Dimitri. What can I do for you?”

Dimitri shook his head. “It is more a question of what I can do for you. Please, Mara, may I be of assistance to you this afternoon?”

She squinted at him in a way that felt both judgmental yet not, and he wondered how keenly she was on to him already. “I could use a strong hand,” she conceded. She gestured to a pile of herbs on the work bench. “Grind all of these into a paste for me, will you?”

“I would be happy to.”

He’d done work like this for Mara before, usually when he’d visit for one of his own sessions with her. She would put his hands to task while they talked, and they would always know if she’d asked him a hard question by the way his crest would flare and he’d accidentally smear herb paste everywhere. Luckily, she kept her workspace very clean, and there was never any waste.

Dimitri settled into the familiar role, grinding down the leaves, smushing it between his fingers to make sure he’d achieved the correct consistency. He then emptied it into a jar and repeated the process with a new batch. Mara hummed as they worked, tunes that Dimitri had grown to recognize over the course of his time here. Generally, they were ballads, or lullabies—songs she’d sing to her patients when they were in distress. Dimitri was not in such distress, but the soothing nature of the melodies helped him relax while he worked and kept him from being too rough. By now, the lyrics and their meaning had been ingrained in him, and if Dimitri harbored any vocal talent to speak of, he could sing along with her.

Some time passed before Mara stopped, and said, “So, Dimitri, what did you come to talk about?”

His cheeks heated up instantly and he ducked his head, sheepish. “Ah. I had hoped it was not so obvious.”

She rolled her eyes. “When you do what I do for as long as I do, you get very perceptive.”

“I suppose I should not have expected any less,” Dimitri admitted. “I…came to ask about Dedue.”

Her expression turned perplexed, interested. “About Dedue? I assume there is a reason you can’t ask him yourself?”

“Yes, exactly,” Dimitri said. “I—we encountered a problem, of sorts, last night, and he insists it wasn’t my fault, but I can tell he is still upset about it.”

“What kind of problem?”

His stomach churned unpleasantly; he lowered his head even further to not have to witness the weight of her questioning stare. “Ah. I had a—that is to say, I, uh, reacted badly to something when I was not expecting to.”

“Dimitri.” Her voice was thinly laced with reproach. “Skirting around the subject won’t help. You know I bear no judgment towards what you and Dedue do together, and I hope you’ll remember I probably taught him whatever it was he did to you, in a roundabout way.”

Dimitri could feel his blush all the way to his ears now. “Ah. Yes. Apologies. He was—we were naked, but we had not yet consummated our—he had bound my arms. Except this time he had bound them behind my back, and it made me think of something bad, and I. Panicked.”

“I see.” Mara’s voice was calm as ever. “I take it the source of that panic is something you don’t wish to delve into at this time.”

“Not at present,” Dimitri confirmed, looking back up at her, “but, uh, perhaps another time, if you would be willing.”

She smiled at him, and relief washed over that he’d been so readily understood. “Very well then. So, you have both confirmed that this is not your fault that you reacted unexpectedly.” He nodded. “But you say Dedue is still upset. Have you asked him why?”

Dimitri shook his head. “He took some time alone to meditate this morning, but I can’t help but feel like something is off.”

“Well, first of all, asking him directly is your best option,” Mara said. “Communication is the most important thing.”

“I know, but—”

“But what?”

Dimitri swallowed. “I think he thinks he failed me.”

Mara made a noise that Dimitri couldn’t quite place. “Tell me: what happened afterwards?”

“He backed away. Told me to breathe, counted with me until I was calmer.” He wrinkled his nose. “He stayed away until I asked him to come back. He asked questions, to try to figure out what had caused my bad—what had caused my reaction,” he corrected, at Mara’s stern, raised eyebrow. “He asked me if I wanted to kneel. He comforted me until we went to sleep. But this morning, even when he kissed me, I felt like something was off.”

“I see. And do you feel like there was anything else he could have done for you?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Down to my marrow.” He hoped Mara could hear the fervency of his words.

“Then he could not have failed you,” Mara said firmly. “While this is something Dedue definitely needs to come to terms with himself, it is also not solely his responsibility to ensure your time together runs smoothly. Even if he is taking the position of power, it is up to you to effectively communicate not only what does not work for you, but what _is_ effective. It is not fair for you to leave that solely to his imagination.”

“I always assumed Dedue knew everything,” he admitted. “He always seems so sure.”

“It is part of the role he plays,” Mara said, “what he must project in order to give you the peace of mind to relax and get what you need during your sessions.”

“Oh.” Dimitri hadn’t thought of it that way before. Suddenly, Dedue’s discrepancy in behavior made a lot more sense. Of course he would have reined it in last night, so as not to worry Dimitri more. But that meant Dedue would not have been able to work through his own feelings on the matter.

He asked, “Do you think sometimes Dedue might want our roles reversed? Is that what he would need for this?”

Mara shrugged. “That is something you must discuss amongst yourselves. Maybe he would like for you to be in charge, or maybe he simply takes his own pleasure—and peace of mind—from knowing he is doing a good job in dominating you.”

Dimitri nodded as her words sank in, and she continued, “But like I said, this is something you two need to communicate effectively with each other. Ask him what he likes, what satisfies him in your sessions together. See in what ways you can do that for him, even if you might not be in control. You must both trust and cherish each other within whatever roles you take, and in your relationship as a whole.”

Profound gratitude welled up in Dimitri’s chest then, powerful and vast. “Thank you for sharing these words of wisdom,” he murmured. “I have taken them to heart, I promise.”

“That’s all I can hope from you.” Mara gave him a smile; it had a hint of playfulness to it. “Well, you’ve been enough help for today. Go home and wait for your paramour. I’m sure you’ll have much to talk about.”

Dimitri scrambled to his feet and bowed deeply. “Thank you so much,” he said, switching to her native tongue for his farewell in the hopes that it would convey his respect and gratitude even further. “Have a wonderful rest of the day, Mara.”

“Good luck,” Mara called after him, and Dimitri made his way back outdoors.

There was a crisp breeze traveling through the air on his walk home, and it cleared his nostrils of all the cloyingly sweet scents from Mara’s potent herbs and flowers. Dimitri breathed in and out slowly, taking it in, taking his time. It was late afternoon, judging by the position of the sun, which meant that he would likely have a small amount of time to himself before Dedue made it back to the house as well.

Dimitri mulled over Mara’s words, rolled them on his tongue under his breath as he went. First and foremost, he needed to express his thanks for how Dedue handled things, needed to make sure there was not even the slightest amount of room to doubt it. Mara was right: they had discussed what had gone poorly, but they hadn’t really covered what had gone well. Dimitri would rectify that. And second, he needed to ask what Dedue wanted.

He’d always assumed whatever Dedue did, it was because he wanted to do it. And Dedue was a forthright and honest man, so that much had to be true. But it didn’t mean there weren’t other things that Dedue would like as well.

Ultimately, Dimitri wanted them both to be happy together. And they were, they definitely were, but if they could be even more so, wouldn’t that be worth working towards?

Dedue’s shoes were already in the entrance when Dimitri opened the door. He blinked, confused by the sight, until he saw Dedue sitting half-sideways on the couch. His legs were over the edge as if he’d originally been seated, but his torso had leaned over until his head rested against the armrest. His eyes were closed, and he was very still. Next to him, on the small table that hosted one of Dedue’s potted plants, was a small bowl half-full of blueberries. Dedue must have taken some from the bucket and washed them for eating before he’d fallen asleep.

He looked so peaceful like this, not a single line of worry marring his strong features. Dimitri resisted the urge to go over and kiss his nose. He wondered, then, just how much Dedue had slept last night. Dimitri couldn’t remember much—he never did, on nights when Dedue had him kneel. Most nights when they did that, he couldn’t even recall moving off the floor and settling into bed.

It struck Dimitri, then, that he had no clue how much longer Dedue would keep himself awake for Dimitri’s sake. How much sleep he might have lost fretting over last night’s events, when Dimitri was too far gone to ever notice. Internalizing it to ensure Dimitri would not slip into a dark space of shame and regret.

They’d discussed selfishness, in a manner of speaking. They’d established boundaries to make it clear that what they did together was because they wanted it. Before beginning a relationship of a romantic or sexual nature, Dedue had stated, in no uncertain terms, that he had important goals he wanted to see accomplished, the restoration and reconciliation of Duscur being at the forefront. He would do it without Dimitri if he had to.

Dimitri had needed to heal. It didn’t have to be with Dedue, though initially he hadn’t quite understood that part. It didn’t have to be in Duscur. But it was so much better that it was.

He didn’t think he needed to worry about Dedue falling back into old patterns of never thinking of himself. He wouldn’t be still helping the community flourish otherwise. But it was still a topic worth revisiting.

Once Dedue had caught up on his sleep.

Dimitri crossed the home towards the bedroom to retrieve one of their spare blankets. He returned with it to the living room, and softly draped it over Dedue’s sleeping form.

He pondered over what to do in the meantime. Preparing dinner could be a nice gesture, but he ran a greater risk of messing up and waking Dedue and compelling him to intervene, which totally defeated the purpose. He looked at the sampling of blueberries Dedue had taken for himself, and then back to where he’d left the original bucket. He could wash the rest of them. That was easy, and hopefully would not wake his lover.

Dimitri searched their cupboards for a bowl big enough to contain all the blueberries, but he should have known better. He settled for several of their largest bowls, placed them on the counter next to the sink, and set to work. One handful at a time, he’d rinse the berries and then dump them into a bowl until it was full, then move to the next bowl. He let the water run at a soft, steady pace, and the repetitive actions were comforting in their own way.

Every now and then, he’d sneak a glance over his shoulder at Dedue, just to make sure he was still okay, ostensibly checking for any signs of discomfort from his slumber. Every time, he’d turn back to his work, reassured.

It was easy to lose track of time as the sun curved its way across the window, caught up in the rhythmic motions, and so he did not notice Dedue coming up behind him.

“May I help?”

Dimitri nearly startled out of his skin, stumbling back into Dedue’s firm chest. He looked up to find Dedue smiling down on him, his eyes crinkling softly at the edges.

“O-Oh,” Dimitri stammered. “I’d hoped to finish washing them all before you woke up.”

They both looked down at the bucket in unison, and Dimitri realized, then, that he’d very nearly succeeded, and only a couple handfuls remained. He took one, then Dedue took the other. Their fingers connected as they rinsed the berries under the stream, just a quick little knock, and then Dedue moved behind Dimitri to place his blueberries into the last bowl.

Dimitri washed the dark blue-purple stains out of his hands, and Dedue handed him a towel to dry them with, which he accepted gratefully.

“You brought more than I was expecting,” Dedue said.

“I said we’d get a big batch from Natalie, didn’t I?”

Dedue chuckled, a light huff of air into the top of Dimitri’s head. “You did. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“And if they don’t last, I am sure Natalie wouldn’t mind giving us more.”

“I intend to take my time with them,” Dedue said, smiling. He bent down to kiss Dimitri’s forehead. “Thank you, love.”

Dimitri tilted his head up further, and Dedue obliged him with a second kiss on the lips, just a brief touch that sent a tingling lightness through him. “Did you have a good nap?”

“It definitely helped,” Dedue answered.

Loath as Dimitri was to break their little bubble of happiness, it was the perfect opportunity. “Did you sleep poorly last night?”

Dedue nodded ruefully. “Unfortunately, yes. But you needn’t worry about it.”

He was deflecting again. “I will always worry about you,” Dimitri insisted. “I always care about you, just as you do for me. Won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

Dedue hesitated. Dimitri saw it in the way his entire body stiffened, the way he pursed his lips before averting his gaze in defeat. “I can,” he said softly. “I did not wish to upset you further, is all. You had a rough night yourself.”

Dimitri reached out and clasped one of Dedue’s hands in both his own and gently tugged him around the counter and back towards the couch so that they both could sit. Thankfully, Dedue went willingly.

“If I am upset further, it is only because I do not like seeing you upset, beloved,” Dimitri said. “I know you understand.”

“I do,” Dedue sighed. “I am sorry.” He sighed again, dragged a hand over his face. Dimitri touched a hand to Dedue’s arm, unsure how to soothe him right now. The best thing to do was to wait.

Finally, Dedue said, a confession pulled from deep within his chest, “It pained me to have upset you last night. That I can’t guarantee it won’t happen again with something else.”

His gut had been absolutely right, then. Which meant the application of Mara’s advice was of utmost importance here.

“Neither of us can guarantee that regardless,” Dimitri reasoned. “Neither can we guarantee something won’t upset _you_ instead.”

Dedue lifted an arm to wrap around Dimitri’s shoulders and pull him closer; Dimitri sank into him willingly, thankfully. The contact made it easier.

“You’re right, of course,” Dedue said. “Though I think you are more at risk than I am.”

“That is true for now,” Dimitri agreed. “But it may not always be the case. And, Dedue, I need you to know that no one else could have helped me as well as you did. You grounded me when I was losing myself. You determined what the problem was. You took care of me. I couldn’t have possibly asked for anything better.”

Dedue’s grip tightened and Dimitri nuzzled into his chest. “That…helps me to hear that,” he said. “Thank you.”

Emboldened by his success thus far, Dimitri continued. “You have been nothing short of amazing in all of our times together. I’m sorry I haven’t thought to tell you this before. You deserve to hear it all the time.”

“I am far from perfect,” Dedue said cautiously.

Dimitri looked up at him. “You never needed to be perfect. You just needed to be you.”

Dedue’s second arm came to wrap around Dimitri, and he hugged him tight. Dimitri wormed his arms around to squeeze back.

Dedue said, so soft Dimitri could barely hear, “Thank you.”

Dimitri closed his eye and breathed.

They stayed that way together until a new shade swooped into their home from the setting sun. And when Dedue relaxed around him, Dimitri found the voice he needed for his next question.

“Dedue,” he began, “Is there ever anything you wish to do differently? Be it play a different role, or want something opposite to me, or…even minor little things?”

Dedue was silent for a moment. When Dimitri craned his neck up again to look at him, he saw Dedue’s eyes looking off into the distance as they often did when he was deeply considering something.

“Very rarely,” Dedue said finally. “I’ve found that our preferences generally work in tandem with each other’s, and so I am content with the role I play and the things we do. But, as you know, like you, I’ve learned to give up control from time to time. I don’t need to give it up completely, and I would never force you into a role you were not comfortable with—but sometimes, it is nice to not have to make all of the decisions.”

“I think we can work with that,” Dimitri said honestly. “Can you tell me, when these urges arise? I may not always be in the mood, but I trust that we’ll be open with each other and find a way to ensure we are both satisfied.”

“Yes,” Dedue breathed. His voice was heavy with relief. “Yes, of course.”

“I love you,” Dimitri murmured, and reached with both hands for Dedue’s jaw to pull him in for a kiss.

Dedue responded eagerly, holding Dimitri impossibly close, a full, warm presence surrounding him and blocking out all the rest of the world. The kiss flared to life instantly, and when Dimitri licked at the scar on Dedue’s lip, Dedue retaliated with a growl as his own tongue parted the way into Dimitri’s willing mouth.

Heat pooled low in Dimitri’s belly even as something in his gut flipped, because Dedue wanting this meant that they were okay, that Mara’s advice had really helped, that Dimitri had been able to help him after all. And even if he’d kissed Dedue before giving him a chance to speak back the words, Dimitri knew they were reciprocated. It was obvious in the way Dedue kissed him, touched him, held him, encompassed him and made his heart feel fit to burst.

Dimitri slid his arms around to the back of Dedue’s neck, one hand carding through the shorter hair at the base, making its way to the longer strands to tangle in, and the other burrowing beneath Dedue’s shirt, just to feel the warm skin there, the goosebumps that raised as Dedue shuddered into the kiss.

In retaliation, Dedue’s hands trailed lower down Dimitri’s back, tugged the hem of his shirt from where it had been tucked into his pants, and spread broad, wide hands across the bare skin of Dimitri’s lower back. His fingers stretched and dug into, not enough to leave marks, though Dimitri didn’t care whether he did or didn’t. That presence, that power, was enough to make his head spin, to force a moan which Dedue swallowed down.

Against his lips, Dedue rumbled, “I love you so much,” and Dimitri felt like he could float on air.

Words and air left Dimitri in a rush. “Do you want to try a do-over?”

Dedue closed his eyes and pressed his forehead firmly against Dimitri’s in lieu of answer. “Yes,” he said fervently. “Yes. But first…” His eyes opened again, and Dimitri tracked their movement back to the kitchen counter. “It would be prudent to make dinner first.”

Dimitri huffed a laugh. “I cannot say I am hungry for that kind of sustenance at present,” he said, and Dedue laughed softly with him, a warm rumble that Dimitri felt everywhere they were touching. He added, “But if you wish to eat first, I won’t complain either.”

Dedue shook his head, his grin slowly stretching his features, his eyes soft and so very fond. “We can eat after, then.”

He needed to be sure anyways. “Is that what you want?”

“I promise.”

That settled it, then.

They rose from the couch together and linked hands on the way to their room. When Dimitri gripped a little tighter, Dedue squeezed back, and Dimitri’s heart sang joyfully and voraciously with each pulse.

They stopped at the foot of the bed, by the chest, and Dedue maneuvered Dimitri into another kiss, long and full and passioned. There was something different to his kisses now, something just on the edge of desperate but not quite there. It bespoke an emotion that Dimitri was deeply and personally familiar with, and it was this, coupled with Mara’s words and their fresh conversation, that gave him pause when Dedue pulled back for breath.

“Dedue,” Dimitri began, “is there anything in particular you want tonight? Anything you do not want?”

Dedue’s shoulders rose and fell in tandem with his breathing. “Yes,” he said. “I find myself…” He stopped, his eyes darting sideways, brow furrowing. “May I ask you a question first?”

That was odd. But Dimitri nodded all the same, hoping Dedue would understand it as an invitation to speak anything he wished.

“Which tools would you wish to use tonight, if any?” Dedue asked. “I took the padded cuffs in for chain repairs this morning, but I haven’t picked it up yet, so those are unfortunately unavailable.”

A bit of a shame, but nothing they couldn’t supplement another way. In truth, Dimitri still longed to be bound, just as Dedue had done so effectively before. There were other ways to achieve that, and without the orientation that had caused him strife last night.

“I think I would like the rope tonight,” Dimitri said.

“Which fabric?”

Dimitri’s mind jammed on that question, on the decision of whether or not he wanted it to itch and burn along with all the rest. It was amazing regardless, but with Dedue’s thoughts so unpredictable like this…

“Would you prefer I leave that in your hands?” he asked carefully. “Based on what you want, or don’t want?”

“If it’s all the same to you, I would like that,” Dedue admitted.

“The choice is yours, then,” Dimitri said. “I would prefer to have little control tonight. I want to replace yesterday with something better.”

He didn’t quite know if he was expressing himself adequately here, but he felt the acute need for some sort of catharsis. Proof that he could still give everything up to Dedue, and that it would always be worth it in the end. Because Dedue truly took the best care of him. He wanted to experience every facet of Dedue’s care just as fervently as he wanted Dedue to witness how much he appreciated it. How valued Dedue was, how good he was at what he did.

And he wanted Dedue to take pleasure in it just as ardently.

“I think I can give you that,” Dedue said seriously, and there could be no doubting his sincerity. “Though there is one thing I would ask from you, if you can trust that I will still give you what you need.”

Dimitri leaned in and kissed him. “I trust you with my life,” he said earnestly.

Dedue smiled briefly, and said, “I would like to ride you.”

Oh.

That was new. That was very new.

They’d never done it from that configuration before. Dimitri didn’t even know if Dedue had ever experienced such a sensation. But if that was what Dedue wanted, then Dimitri could never deny him that.

And the prospect of being enveloped by Dedue even in this—

“Yes,” he breathed. “Will you be—”

Dedue pressed a shushing finger to his lips. He probed, just ever so slightly, parting Dimitri’s mouth open, pushing down his lower lip.

“You needn’t worry about me,” Dedue assured him. Then his voice pitched low. “Are you ready, Dimitri?”

Dimitri gasped at the signal in spite of himself, and the hairs of the back of his neck prickled with anticipation. “Please,” he whispered.

Dedue kissed him briefly, full of promise. “Good. How about you undress for me first?”

Dimitri obeyed instantly, pulling his shirt over his head and shucking off his trousers, while Dedue rummaged through the chest for the rope. Dedue eventually emerged with the silken variety, which didn’t feel surprising to Dimitri, given all that had transpired. It figured that Dedue would go for something soft this time.

Those were Dimitri’s thoughts, until Dedue cleared his throat, commanding his attention. Dedue’s eyes were smoldering with desire within their depths, and Dimitri knew, with a frisson of pleasure, that Dedue would not allow him time to think anymore.

Gods and Goddess, Dimitri loved him so very much.

“Come here,” Dedue said, his voice heavy with desire. Dimitri longed to melt in that sound. “Undress me, now.”

Dimitri exhaled shakily before untucking Dedue’s shirt from his trousers. He rolled it up slowly, marveling in each new inch of exposed, muscled skin, and the scars that adorned it. He didn’t think he could ever tire from this sight. Dedue lifted his arms obligingly for Dimitri to pull it up and over his head, though Dimitri had to stand on his tiptoes to manage it. He let the shirt fall to the floor and slowly ran his hands across the planes and muscle and blemishes of Dedue’s chest, down through the fuzzy patch of hair where skin met the next obstacle of clothing.

He swallowed when he saw the evidence of Dedue’s enjoyment beginning to fill out the front of his trousers. The urge to get his hands on Dedue’s length grew, stoking the flames in Dimitri’s belly as his fingers inched ever closer to their goal. First, he unbuckled Dedue’s belt and eased it out of its loop. Dedue’s breath hitched—he was holding himself incredibly still as Dimitri worked, stoic and immovable, but it was heady to know that he was nonetheless affecting his lover so, that he had to fight to contain himself.

When Dedue’s trousers dropped, his cock sprung up, thick and flush. Dimitri’s mouth watered.

“Would you like a taste?” Dedue asked with an indulgent smile. Dimitri nodded eagerly, and one of Dedue’s hands came to grip the top of his head, guiding him to his knees, firm yet gentle all at once. “One lick, and no more. That’s for later.”

Dimitri shivered as Dedue’s orders sent a spike of arousal curling tight in his groin, as Dedue’s manipulation set him at eye level with Dedue’s cock. Dimitri leaned forward and extended his tongue along the underside, just letting it rest heavy upon him. Dedue was not leaking yet, but up close Dimitri could smell the musk that signified he would be soon.

Dedue cleared his throat, and Dimitri’s cheeks burned at being caught taking too long. He rolled his tongue back into his mouth, his tongue flitting across the tip at the last second, finding a delicious hint of dampness there before Dedue forced his head away.

“Give me your hands,” Dedue commanded next. Dimitri acquiesced, lifted his arms in front of him and held them close together. The silk rope was clenched in the hand not in Dimitri’s hair, and Dedue made use of it now, releasing Dimitri’s head to bind his wrists together instead. The cloth was smooth and cool against his skin, but the friction of his wrists rubbing together generated a welcome heat. And the knowledge that Dedue was talented with knots, that he would be trapped like this with limited mobility…

Dedue wrapped one large, powerful hand around both of Dimitri’s wrists at once and hauled him to his feet. Then he maneuvered them to the side, used his other hand to dig into the meat of Dimitri’s hip and pull their bodies flush together, and kissed him senseless.

Dimitri moaned with abandon, his hips snapping forwards. It made their cocks brush and rub together, bringing with the motion a wave of arousal so dizzying his knees buckled. He had the distinct yet vague sensation of falling—but no, Dedue held him steady and sure, as he always did.

Dedue crowded into him, and as much as Dimitri wanted to stay rooted, to have Dedue suffocate his space, it was overpowering. The momentum forced him back, one step at a time, until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed and sent them both tumbling.

Dimitri’s back hit the bedding, and his legs instinctively curled around Dedue’s powerful thighs to thrust him forward and on top of him. Dedue braced himself with arms on either side of Dimitri’s chest just in time to prevent himself from crushing him, then clambered onto the bed completely to hover over Dimitri, clutch both sides of his face once more and kiss him impossibly deeper than before.

The kiss was filled with biting teeth, plundering tongue, and an unwavering air of possession. Dimitri whined into it, his hips bucking desperately into nothing as Dedue held the rest of himself at bay. Eager to be devoured, Dimitri wiggled his arms between them, momentarily breaking the kiss, saliva dripping from his mouth, to wrap them over Dedue’s head, resting around his neck. It was an awkward fit, but Dimitri couldn’t bring himself to care the slightest bit. How could it bother him, when it meant Dedue was unbearably close, kissing him breathless, consuming every part of him?

Suddenly, the warm, calloused touch of Dedue’s palm was upon Dimitri’s cock, and he gasped into Dedue’s mouth as sparks flew from where skin met skin to every extremity.

Dedue barely gave him a chance to recover; the endless kiss coupled with Dedue’s practiced strokes were dizzying in their effect. Dimitri felt like he was about to fly apart at the seams, so strong was the pressure and arousal building up inside him, coiling hot and tight in his groin.

“Dimitri.”

Dedue’s voice was so low, husky, unabashedly _wanting_ , that Dimitri nearly choked. He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eye throughout most of this until just now, the force of his name breathed out like that compelling him to look.

A hectic flush had spread across Dedue’s cheeks, a beautiful, deep color that made Dimitri wish, for just a fleeting moment, that he could capture and bottle it to paint across a dazzling tapestry. He was no artist, but sometimes, Dedue made the impossible seem possible. Now, looking at him like this, his pupils blown wide, his jaw dropped slightly as he tried to regulate his breathing—nothing could ever compare to visions such as these.

“Dimitri,” he said again, more urgently this time.

“Yes,” Dimitri said. It didn’t matter that the question was unclear. With Dedue, the answer was always yes, one way or another, now more than ever. That Dedue’s hand rested still upon his cock had everything and nothing to do with it all at once.

Dedue ducked out of Dimitri’s arms. Then, with his other hand, he grabbed the knot tying Dimitri’s wrists together and lifted them higher, forcing Dimitri to shuffle backwards to the head of the bed, until he was sat against the pillows there, and Dedue was snagging the knot into a hook he’d nailed to the wall ages ago to serve this very purpose.

Dedue paused then, locking eyes with Dimitri. Despite the evidence of his desire, there was a solemnity there, a profound concern.

“Is this okay?” he asked, very serious.

Dedue still wasn’t moving against him, and yet Dimitri’s cock jumped, sending another wave of heat juddering through him. Fhirdiad was so far away from here. He was in Duscur, with the man he loved more than anything else in the world. He was bound at his own will, for his own pleasure, magnified tenfold in the knowledge of the pleasure it would bring his lover as well.

Words could not express how badly he wanted this.

He nodded instead, his throat too thick. Dedue broke into the sweetest, most adoring and relieved smile Dimitri had seen from him in such a long time, maybe ever. And then Dedue was straddling him and tenderly cradling his jaw with both hands and kissing every single patch of skin he could reach.

Dimitri gasped and trembled with every touch. Every inch was searing fire and soothing cool all at once, and he could not tell whether he was coming undone or being made whole. He was on the verge of floating, on the edge of that distant reach in his mind, that place Dedue always brought him to, and yet—Dedue was keeping him here, present, grounded. That was what was different this time, he realized. Dedue was tethering him to these moments because that was what he needed from this, in order to fully heal from last night. What that meant for Dimitri was totally unknown.

But Dedue had promised he would still make it good. Dimitri trusted him wholeheartedly.

And the thrill of going someplace new, because Dedue was the one guiding him there—

“Yes.”

Dedue groaned in reply, one of his long arms stretching for the bottle of oil on the nightstand. He poured himself a generous amount and then, balancing on his knees, he pressed his palm against the headboard right next to Dimitri’s face and reached his other hand behind himself.

Dimitri could not see from this angle, could not tell how many fingers Dedue was using. There was nothing he could do to help, trapped here as he was. Dedue had control. And all Dimitri could do was watch.

He watched as Dedue’s face contorted in concentration, as his body spasmed and his lips parted into the soft shape of an ‘o’ while he worked. He watched as Dedue’s eyelids fluttered closed. Trailed his eyes down Dedue’s chest, marveling at the strength contained there, letting his thoughts drift to all the ways Dedue could use that power to take everything Dimitri was willing to give. Continued further to Dedue’s cock, flushed dark and gleaming with a combination of sweat and precome that gathered at the tip. Mapped the tiny bead’s trajectory down the slick underside, and sucked a shuddering breath when Dedue made a choked noise and his cock twitched valiantly.

Everything got a little fuzzy after that. Seeing Dedue like this, knowing he was currently fingering himself open to prepare to seat himself on Dimitri’s cock, was a stunning and gorgeous sight that rendered Dimitri lightheaded. Every new reaction was a jolt directly to Dimitri’s own, achingly neglected cock, red and strained and leaking and waiting so patiently—

Dimitri’s mind was swimming in a haze of captivation and desire when Dedue finally removed his hand. Dimitri watched dazedly as Dedue poured another dollop of oil into his palm, which he then used to take Dimitri’s cock in hand.

The cold wetness against his shaft, along with the friction he’d so desperately craved, let loose a high keening noise from Dimitri’s throat. Dedue pumped his cock slowly, lathering it with oil as he prepared it to take Dedue’s hole. But after so much time—had it been so long?—untouched, Dimitri’s balls drew up and he threw his head back and moaned, fearing his inability to contain himself before he was inside.

Thankfully, infuriatingly, Dedue squeezed the base of Dimitri’s length, and that was enough to stem the rising tide for now. Dimitri panted from exertion as if he’d just been running a lap of the entire town.

“Dimitri,” Dedue said, in that tone of voice that always preceded a command, “You will not move. Do you understand?”

There was no way Dimitri could disobey Dedue when he looked at him like that, when he spoke in that tone, his fist still enclosed around the base of Dimitri’s cock. He nodded, a garbled acquiescence escaping him.

Gingerly, Dedue repositioned himself until he was sitting up on his knees directly over Dimitri’s hips. He lowered himself gently until the head of Dimitri’s cock brushed against Dedue’s hole, and just that fleeting promise of warmth had Dimitri straining against his bindings, gritting his teeth to keep from chasing that heat.

“Very good,” Dedue said quietly, his head bowing to speak directly into Dimitri’s ear.

Dimitri’s heart hammered at the praise, his stomach swooping with butterflies, and in that moment Dedue sank down, pressed, and then Dimitri’s cockhead was inside.

Dimitri choked out a noise like all the air had been punched out of his lungs. He knew the principle of the matter, knew what it felt to be on the receiving end, to be stretched open, to be impossibly full—but for all Dedue’s encouragements and admirations, he’d never thought it could be like this.

And Dedue hadn’t even taken him all the way yet, pausing after just a fraction to give himself a moment to adjust, but the pressure against Dimitri’s cockhead was so much. It surrounded him, all-encompassing, squeezing just on the right side of painful, denying him the relief he sought.

“Dedue,” he gasped.

He received a muffled groan in response, and Dedue’s hands came steady himself against the wall again. Dedue’s hips shifted minutely, taking little circles around Dimitri’s cock as he acquainted himself with the foreign sensation. It was so much and not enough all at once; Dimitri’s nails dug into his palms where they’d curled into fists, restrained above his head.

“You’re so good,” Dedue rumbled in his ear, and Dimitri moaned as the words tingled through his entire body, pulsing right to his cock.

Dedue’s hole fluttered around him, and then Dedue descended further, torturously slow, until he’d taken Dimitri to the hilt.

Dedue was everywhere.

There was no way to describe it, to comprehend how Dedue was just so much. He clenched around Dimitri’s cock from all sides, impossibly tight and wet and hot. The urge to thrust into it further burned, overwhelming him. It hurt to keep still, each muscle contracting painfully with effort. And that was somehow almost secondary to the sight of Dedue before him, commanding every inch of his attention, one hand braced against the wall while the other snaked around to the small of Dimitri’s back to hold him close. The feel of Dedue’s sharp breaths into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, the sweat-slicked press of their chests against each other as Dedue crammed himself into Dimitri’s space. The feedback loop they shared as Dedue’s cock brushed against Dimitri’s abdomen, as Dedue quivered around Dimitri’s cock—every action sent them both gasping.

“Dedue,” whined Dimitri. “Dedue, I—”

“Shh,” Dedue hushed him, scraping his teeth along the corded muscle of Dimitri’s neck up to nibble at his earlobe, and it was all Dimitri could do to keep himself from crying out. His groin was a devastating inferno, burning with the need for friction, if only he could just _move_ —

But Dedue said. Dedue told him not to move. Told him he was so good for listening. Dimitri ached with the desire to be good, to make it good for Dedue, to give him anything, to give him the world if he could. He couldn’t, wouldn’t move, and it was unbearable.

Dedue drew a long breath and lifted his hips upwards, pulling off Dimitri’s cock, but not quite all the way. Then, just as slowly, he came back down, his body trembling the entire journey.

He did this once, twice, and even though Dimitri had longed for friction, the pace was torturous, could never be enough, and yet it sent liquid fire coursing through his veins.

Then Dedue began to move in earnest.

His hips dictated the tempo, and it was beautiful and brutal all at once. Dedue moved with punishing force, as if determined to impale himself somehow on Dimitri’s cock, and Dimitri was helpless to act but for his unabashed moans as he strained against his bindings, his back arching off the pillows and into Dedue’s broad torso.

Dedue’s breaths were hot against his skin; his fingers dug marks that were sure to leave bruises into the small of Dimitri’s back. His other hand slipped along the wall, landing on the headboard. His skin was coated with a sheen of sweat.

“Dimitri,” Dedue grunted, the words punched out with each thrust. “You are—so beautiful—like this.”

“You too,” Dimitri managed, before another snap of Dedue’s hips sent a jolt of arousal so powerful all the breath was stolen from his lungs. He didn’t know how much longer he could do this, how much more he could take before Dedue unraveled him completely. “Please, Dedue, I’m close.”

“Not yet,” Dedue said, with an intensity so startling Dimitri’s mind momentarily went blank. “Do not come before I do.”

Something cold and dreadful seized beneath Dimitri’s ribcage. “I—I don’t—I don’t think I can.”

Dedue stilled, save to bring his hand around Dimitri’s back to cup his cheek. “I know you can,” he said gently, so sure and sincere that Dimitri truly believed him. “You have been so amazing for me already. I am so lucky to have you.”

Tears stung the corner of Dimitri’s eye; the chill in his chest was swept away by the glorious warmth of Dedue’s love, always there to push away the doubt.

“And I you,” he whispered.

Dedue kissed him softly on the mouth, and Dimitri melted into it.

“Thank you,” Dedue murmured. And then he resumed fucking himself on Dimitri’s cock, his own shaft flushed and leaking steadily between them, and Dimitri realized, then, just how close Dedue must be as well. That Dedue would likely come untouched, just from this… It sent the heat coiling in his gut even tighter than ever before, and Dimitri whimpered loudly as he desperately tried to flex his muscles to stave off his impending climax.

His head spun and his body overheated as he lurched perilously towards that edge, towards that cresting wave, and he couldn’t do this, each thrust sent him hurtling towards it, too fast to contain, but Dedue held so much faith in him and he wanted so badly for Dedue to get what he wanted, what he needed, from their time like this, and he’d promised, he’d _promised_ he’d make it good for Dimitri if only he could be good for just a bit longer as Dedue’s thrusts grew more and more frantic, as Dimitri spiraled out of control—

A long, keening groan was wrenched from Dedue’s throat as he came in spurts across both their abdomens. Dedue’s hole clenched and unclenched erratically around Dimitri’s cock, so hot, so impossibly tight, so overwhelming, as if it now meant to squeeze out every last drop and trap it deep inside.

Through his shuddering, Dedue breathed, “Come for me, Dimitri,” and that was it—Dimitri wailed as he finally, _finally_ let himself go, as the rushing relief of orgasm roared in his ears and reduced his world to naught but a cadence of white noise.

He came back to awareness as the aftershocks settled, held in Dedue’s loving embrace.

Dedue’s arms were wrapped protectively around him, keeping him close, safe, so unbelievably loving. He wasn’t usually aware enough for this; his head buzzed, and he felt like he might fly out of his skin. A lump formed in Dimitri’s throat and he sobbed brokenly in Dedue’s arms.

“You’re okay,” Dedue hummed, kissing his forehead, gently wiping at the tear tracks. “My love, you were perfect.”

“I tried,” Dimitri whimpered, sniffling. “I just wanted to be good for you.”

“You were more than,” Dedue assured him. “Was it good for you as well?”

Dimitri nodded emphatically as he continued to cry. Because it _was_ good, it was everything Dedue promised, he didn’t know what he was reacting like this—

“It was different from usual. It is natural for the emotions to hit a little harder. Here, let’s get you more comfortable.”

Between the fuzzy realization that he’d spoken out loud to warrant that answer and Dedue’s subsequent movements, Dimitri let himself go pliant as Dedue sat up on his knees, separating them at long last. Dimitri was vaguely aware of the sight of his spend dribbling down the inside of Dedue’s thighs, at the same time as the soreness in his arms alleviated. Dedue guided his arms lower slowly, gently massaging his shoulders, down to his wrists. Dimitri went easily as Dedue maneuvered him to lie down on his back, his head on a pillow in Dedue’s lap and a blanket draped over his body.

Through all of this, Dedue seemingly never stopped kissing him. Wherever his hands went, his mouth followed. It filled Dimitri with a bubbly warmth that soothed away his tears and sated the thrashing creature inside of him, the plague of anxiety that assaulted his thoughts so often. Now, he settled, calmed. Drifted. Returned to that place Dedue always brought him to. Just as he’d promised.

“There you go,” Dedue murmured. His hands carded through Dimitri’s hair, fingers massaging his scalp, and Dimitri sighed contentedly. “You can stay here as long as you like. I’m not going anywhere.”

His word meant everything. Dimitri relaxed further into Dedue’s ministrations, letting that soothing voice envelop him and guide him to safety.

His mind echoed the word _safe_ back at him. With Dedue, he would always be safe.

“What did you say?”

Dimitri blinked slowly. His eyelid felt so heavy. All around them, the room was shrouded in darkness.

That was odd. Dimitri was sure the sun hadn’t finished setting yet.

Dimitri frowned. “How long…?”

“Longer than usual,” Dedue said. His hands were blessedly still in Dimitri’s hair. One of them came to brush against Dimitri’s jaw instead, to trace the outline of his lips. “But that was to be expected, given the circumstances.”

“Oh.” Dimitri sighed, and the bits of tension he’d just accumulated in his shoulders seeped away as he sank back into his state of relaxation. “I’m tired.”

“I know, love. I’ll fetch some water for you soon, but for now, you don’t need to worry about anything.”

“Mm.” It was so nice, lying here like this. Knowing Dedue would not leave him if he did not wish it.

A small thought nagged at him then, and Dimitri had a half-mind to stow it away, but. It was important.

“What do you want?” Dimitri asked.

Dedue smiled ruefully and shook his head. “Oh, Dimitri. You don’t need to worry about that now. I am content beyond words to care for you like this.”

“You always take such good care of me,” Dimitri murmured. “Thank you.”

Everything was still a little hazy, but he could have sworn Dedue’s eyes were glistening when he answered, “Nothing makes me happier. I love you so much.”

“Me too,” Dimitri said. “So much, I haven’t the words.”

Dedue bent over and kissed him full on the mouth. Dimitri floated in the kiss, drinking it in, blissful and good.

When Dedue eventually pulled away, Dimitri said, “I’m really glad we did this.”

Dedue answered, “Me too.”

They stayed like that for a while, until a new unbidden thought broke through Dimitri’s rest.

“We never had dinner,” he remarked.

“We did not,” Dedue agreed. “Would you like me to make us something quick?”

Dimitri shook his head. “I am not that hungry. You can make yourself something if you like, though.”

Dedue smiled. “I must confess to also not having much of an appetite. I think, once we wash up, I may only have a little snack before we go to sleep.”

“I might have an idea, then.”

“What might that be?”

Dimitri reached for Dedue’s face; Dedue ducked his head to accommodate him, and let Dimitri pull him in for another kiss.

“We have a lot of blueberries to get through.”

Dedue laughed into his mouth, and Dimitri’s heart soared.

**Author's Note:**

> Come Alive, Come Undone was the first fic I wrote for this fandom, so to finally get to come back to it has been incredibly cathartic for a number of reasons. The road to recovery from debilitating mental illness is a long and arduous one, and there will be stumbles upon the way, but there can be beautiful things that come from it, from a strong support network, as well. If you're willing to put in the work. 
> 
> Also, blueberries are my favorite fruit, and I based this entirely on how my local blueberries are generally only available for about two weeks in August, which is a an absolute travesty.
> 
> [@nuanta_fic](https://twitter.com/nuanta_fic)


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